


Apologies

by SeiShonagon



Series: Support [8]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag: s1e04 Feast of Friends, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to BDSM, Sequel, Trust Issues, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeiShonagon/pseuds/SeiShonagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days after the events of "Regrets," John and Chas and Zed have some very necessary conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apologies

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct follow-up to the fic "Regrets" in this series, so you will want to read that first for this to make sense.

In the end, they wait a few more days than planned before touching on any of the topics that are hovering in the air between the three of them. This is primarily out of consideration for John, less for his emotional state and more for the fact that a hangover and strong painkillers don’t seem very well-suited to productive conversation, particularly since they would all actually like him to remember clearly everything that is said. Also, as they half-expected, he’s made himself sick with what he’s put his body through since Gary’s death, and the fever doesn’t help the situation much either.

By the time John is on the mend, Chas is ready to jump out of his skin. He’s not entirely happy that Zed has been hanging around the entire time, though he supposes he’d rather have her where he can see her. She seems useful, and she did try to call him once she knew something was going horribly wrong, but Chas still doesn’t know what happened between her and John, or how it affects their whole situation these days.

He’s sitting at the table, lost in thought over his first cup of coffee, when Zed comes and sits near him with her own cup, banging it down on the surface with slightly more force than necessary.

“All right,” she says. “Let’s get this out, then.” She looks at him directly, which doesn’t surprise him – _directly_ seems to be the way she does everything. But he blinks at her, still tired, not yet sure what she’s driving at. “You don’t trust me,” she clarifies.

“It’s not that,” he says, then purses his lips. He decides to be completely frank with her, as it can only help here. “Or, not exactly that. I want to know what’s going on between you and John. He’s obviously in bad shape, and something involving you contributed to it.” Before she can become defensive, he raises his hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t think you meant to do whatever it was. But it clearly happened, and I want to know what it was and why.”

She relaxes and smiles indulgently, then, as if she thinks something he’s said is cute. He can’t imagine what. He doesn’t get a chance to ask before the expression fades, replaced with seriousness, and she leans toward him for emphasis.

“I’m not here to get between you. I’m just here to learn. And, well, that was a tough case, and I haven’t been doing this very long. I guess I didn’t deal with it very well.” She looks sad. “Gary’s the first friend of John’s I’ve met, other than you. He’s pretty private. And, well, I was curious. I asked some questions, and I got involved, and I got some answers I didn’t like.”

Chas nods. “That’ll happen, around John.”

“I left. I didn’t tell him where I was going. I didn’t realize until later that he might not think I was coming back. Stupid of me.”

Chas waves away her guilt. “Don’t. Don’t blame yourself for John’s problems – there’s no end to that road. I’ve been there. Don’t feel guilty over something John does unless you know for certain you’re directly responsible for it.”

Now Zed looks away from him for the first time, toward the stairs. “There’s more, but I won’t tell you until I’ve talked with John. Not mine to tell.” She brings her gaze back to him, and seems surprised at his approving nod.

“Let John have some secrets, is my recommendation,” Chas advises. “Or he’ll run for the hills faster than you can blink. A habit I don’t recommend learning from him, by the way.”

Zed laughs. “I’m sure John would be the first to point out I have secrets too. It drives him crazy. But they’re nothing to do with him, or with you.”

“If it’s something you need help with, we can’t do that if we don’t know what it is,” Chas points out.

“I don’t want your help with this. I don’t want to have to think about it. But it does mean, well, I’m probably not cut out to help John with whatever’s eating him sometimes. And I can’t do this sometimes-mentor, sometimes-not thing. Which is a talk I need to have with him, I know. And I promise I will.”

“You know you shouldn’t trust him.” It isn’t a question. At this point, she’s seen some of the worst John’s capable of, and knows at least the basics of Newcastle. But Chas needs to know how far that extends.

“I trust that he wants to help at the moment. Helping me goes with whatever else he’s working on.” Zed is clearly watching him for a reaction, and he nods. She continues, “And I know that means that I can trust you only as far as I can trust him.”

Which gives Chas pause, because it’s probably true. Zed knows about his relationship with John, though she probably doesn’t know the depth of it. So he nods again.

“How much can I depend on you?” she asks, and it’s a good question, deserving a serious answer. He thinks before speaking.

“As long as you’re working with John, if he can’t give you the stable support you need, I probably can. I can help back you up physically, though you’ve shown you’re capable in that area. More so than John, really. I won’t give you information on John, but I won’t give you false information either. How does that sound?” He watches as Zed ponders each item.

“One question. You’ve offered me support, and you clearly support John. Who supports you?” Her look is penetrating, and Chas surprises himself by avoiding her eyes.

“I’ll be fine.”

“And when you’re not?” God, John was right about how persistent this woman is. And yet, Chas finds himself smiling. Maybe it’s a good thing.

“I’ll come to you.”

“Deal.” Chas doesn’t even suggest they shake on it, but they clink coffee cups, and it’s to this tableau that John enters the room, barefoot, still in sweatpants and t-shirt, looking blearily from one to the other.

“What’s this, then?” John avoids their gazes by heading to the refrigerator and drinking straight from the juice carton, a disgusting habit he knows Chas disapproves of. He glances longingly at the beer stash before closing the door. He apparently knows better than to try combining alcohol with medications under Chas’ watchful eye.

“Conspiring behind your back,” Zed says. “We have a diabolical plan to make you eat three solid meals a day.”

Chas can’t help the snort that escapes him. That’ll be the day.

John rolls his eyes. “You should be honored,” he says to Zed. “He doesn’t usually talk this much to people.”

Chas knows better than to let John’s needling get to him. He just shrugs and smiles a little at Zed’s inquiring look, then surveys the situation more seriously.

John seems better. Probably better enough to do some of the talking that needs to be done. Chas figures he’ll give Zed the first go. He slides out from the table when John sits down, catching Zed’s eye on his way out. He then makes sure John can still see him behind the doorframe, though from her angle, Zed can’t. John gives him one last eyeroll before turning to Zed.

“Let’s hear it, love, say what you came for.” His voice is resigned as it has been the last few days, though thankfully it’s lost some of the edge of pain. He’s drinking orange juice as though he wishes it were alcoholic.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, is all.” Zed’s voice is sincere, and Chas can already imagine the expression that goes with it, eyes drawn together, looking up at him through her hair.

John’s spluttering surprise as he chokes on juice is an expression Chas wouldn’t miss for the world, though, so he’s glad he chose this perspective. John stares at her. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I left without telling you I was coming back.”

“Not your dad, love.”

“Damn straight you’re not my father,” her voice is sharp, and John’s expression is calculating for a moment, then sympathetic. 

“You don’t have to tell me when you go somewhere, is what I meant. You come and go as you please. Gave you a key and all.”

That surprises Chas. Apparently Zed has impressed John at some point while they were working, either in Pennsylvania or in Chicago. Or maybe even during this most recent disaster. John doesn’t exactly hand out keys to the mill house, or to any place he’s staying.

“Still,” she presses. “It wasn’t a good idea when we were still… well. In the middle of things. Speaking of which.” There’s an awkward pause, and John looks away. Chas would bet she’s not looking at him either, but he can’t risk crossing the doorway to be sure. Eventually, she says, “I’m sorry for what I said to you.”

“You meant it.” John isn’t asking, and he isn’t guessing.

“I did,” Zed admits. “But I was wrong. There’s nothing you could have done. And I couldn’t have done better. I shouldn’t have judged you.” John slowly looks back at her, and once his gaze is fully back on her, Chas hears her voice, sharp once more, “Yet. Not saying I won’t someday.”

John nods slowly. “Wouldn’t expect you not to. Woman of strong opinions, you are.”

“But John, I can’t be your student, or apprentice, or whatever, and also be the person you lean on when something goes wrong. I don’t know enough, and you won’t tell me enough. It’s not fair and it’s not safe.” Her voice rises in volume as she speaks, finally giving vent to the emotions she still clearly feels over the situation.

John looks away again. “I know. I shouldn’t have brought you into this at all. Should have sent you packing on vacation as soon as Gary showed up. Not your problem, was it.”

“That’s not the problem, John, and you know it,” and now Zed’s voice is angry. Chas could applaud. “I wouldn’t have let you send me away. The problem came after.”

John’s voice begins to rise as well. “Consequences of my decisions are my problem, love, and trust me, you do _not_ want to get involved in those. Thought talking with Gary might convince you of that.”

Zed gives a distressed sound. “Were you using Gary for that, too?”

John flinches. “He would have agreed to it. If I asked.”

“Oh, John.” There’s sympathy in her voice, rather than judgment, and Chas is glad to hear it. John bows his head. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. John nods, seeming to accept her words. She touches his shoulder, then comes toward the doorway where Chas is concealing himself.

He prepares to act as though he’s approaching casually, but she’s faster. She barely pauses when she spots him. “Tag, your turn,” she whispers, as she passes. They smile at one another before Chas goes into the kitchen, and Chas thinks to himself that perhaps Zed really is someone they can work with.

John raises his head at Chas’ approach. “Satisfied?” he demands, and there’s resentment in his voice.

“Sorry, John, but you needed to talk to her.”

“Because talking helps so much.” John’s tone is caustic.

Chas will have to step carefully. He knows John sees these discussions only as more opportunities for them to hurt each other, and he is clearly reaching the end of his tolerance for them. That’s a problem, because in Chas’ experience, admittedly limited but far more functional than anyone else’s in the house, they’re the only way to keep a relationship going. That was his problem with Renée, in fact – he’d prioritized other things, including his work with John, over communicating with her.

“John.” Chas keeps his own tone even, but firm, and receives a sigh in return. “You know we can’t just let things go.”

John glares at him. “Still not sure what there is to talk about. Unless you have some explanation that makes sense for why you’re still here.”

Chas wills himself to be patient. He knows John is pushing him away because he’s afraid, and that he’s angry because he’s vulnerable.

Maybe they should relocate. Chas stands and moves away from the table, pausing expectantly. John grumbles, but follows. They move back to the library sofa, where they’ve had so many of their important conversations, not to mention their first sexual encounter.

“How about I talk, and you listen. And you just tell me if I’m right or wrong if I say something about you, and tell me if I say something you’re not all right with.” Chas hopes this suggestion will smooth things over. It’s not one he’s happy with, since if he’s honest he’s only marginally more comfortable with all this talking than John, but it’s the best option he can find. John nods.

Chas takes a deep breath. “You want me to stay.”

Nod, very slow.

“I want to stay.”

Disbelieving stare. Headshake.

Chas breathes out a slight laugh. “Not a question, John. That one’s not about you. So. We want the same thing.”

Reluctant nod.

“You think it’s impossible.”

Nod, of course. Nothing surprising so far. Now to get to actual information.

“Because you’ll… what? Sleep with someone else? Is that it?”

John looks away, and that’s all the response Chas needs.

“Look, John, if that’s all, I know that about you, and we can make it work.”

That finally drives John to talk. “An open relationship? Chas, mate, I’ve seen the kinds of relationships you go for. That’s not one of them. You’d never want that.”

Chas shrugs. “Not my first choice, I’ll admit. But I can settle for it. It’s not the worst thing, to me.”

At that, John almost walks away, and it’s only Chas’ sudden hold on his left wrist that keeps him in place as he speaks at last. “You shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to settle for me. You deserve a real relationship. Hell, Chas, you’ve _had_ a real relationship, you were fucking _married with a kid_ it was so real, why wouldn’t you go for that again instead of settling for this?” He gestures at himself, as if indicating something of lesser worth.

Chas isn’t about to let that go. He shifts his grip on the other man, pulls John to him, sliding an arm around his waist, and holding him against his side. “Idiot. That’s the part that isn’t ‘settling.’ I can settle for the open relationship if it means I get to be with you. Asshole.”

John freezes. “Why would you do that?”

“Why not? I get what I want, mostly. You get what you want, mostly. You’ll be settling too, in some ways. That’s life.”

John ponders that one for a moment. “Not sure where I see myself settling in that one.”

Chas takes another deep breath, because this is the next hard part. He’s thought long and hard about this one. “Doesn’t mean there aren’t rules, John.”

John pulls back, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “‘You can have what you want, John, as long as you follow my rules’? Is that it, mate?”

“That’s relationships, John. If there’s rules you want to add, let me know. These are the ones I need. You tell me what you need.”

John glares at him a little longer, still suspicious. “Let’s hear it then.”

“First, I need to know if I can even safely be with you. You _will_ see a doctor and get yourself tested. A full course of testing, and you _will_ take any medication prescribed.” John grimaces, but makes a gesture of acquiescence. It’s an obvious and basic practical requirement. And he probably knows Chas will insist on it, relationship or no relationship.

“And just in case, I want you to investigate what happens if… if I were to catch something. I want to know what it would mean. If I died of something like that. If it’s something that would vanish when I come back, or if it’s one of those things like small wounds, that sometimes stay. I need to know the risks.” John swallows, looking ill himself, and nods. It’s not something they like to think about, but they’ll have to confront the question sometime.

“Speaking of risks. None of this having dangerous sex with random strangers, John. If you’re going to have sex with someone else, you do it safely, and you tell me. No secrets, no lies.” Chas practically holds his breath. If anything will make John run from this, it’s the honesty requirement, but Chas knows he can’t live without it, and he won’t do John the disservice of pretending otherwise.

To his credit, John actually considers the proposition carefully. He looks at his hands, thinking. Eventually, he looks back up, and his answer makes Chas’ skin crawl, but at least it isn’t over yet. “Keep talking, and we’ll see.”

“I won’t really hurt you, not like you’re used to. A little, sometimes, maybe, but it’s just not my thing. You want me to tie you up, that type of thing, I’ll do that. But you need somebody to hurt you more than I will, you tell me. And we will find you someone we both trust to do it for you.” John turns slightly pink at the idea, but nods again. Easier than Chas expected.

“Okay then. Last one. No destroying this relationship, or yourself, because you’re having a rough time of it. I…” Unexpectedly, Chas finds his own breath catching and his eyes stinging. “I can’t keep doing this, John. I can’t watch you do this to yourself, and I can’t let you use me to do it.” He’s the one to look away from John, this time, and he almost misses John’s soft response.

“I’m sorry, mate. Should never have put you through that.” There’s a pause, and then he says, voice stronger now, “But I might do, someday. Again. And I’ll mess things up… some other way. I know it, and let’s be honest, you know it.”

“Yeah. I do. We’ll deal with it when it happens.” Chas shrugs.

It won’t do any good to pretend that John’s destructive lifestyle won’t affect any relationship they try to have. And it might happen that John pushes him far enough someday that it’s no longer tenable. Until then, they’ll work together to make this happen, this thing they both want. Chas tries to put as much of his determination into his eyes as he can, looking back at John, who laughs wearily. “You are fucking crazy, mate,” he says.

“Says John fucking Constantine.”


End file.
